


Red

by pann_cake



Series: Wishbone [1]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: M/M, Mutual Pining, Reunion, ambrollins - Freeform, past relationship, seth's return from injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 02:39:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14392506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pann_cake/pseuds/pann_cake
Summary: Time Stamp: Night after Extreme Rules- Monday May 23, 2016“It’s a little sore,” Seth admits, looking up at him. “But it’s no big deal. Nothing compared to what it was.” It’s the truth--Dean seems to be the only one who can ever get the truth out of him, even if it comes with a fight.That’s not what this is, though. It’s not a fight, they’re not scratching and clawing at each other, not desperately trying to rip each other’s hearts out anymore. Seth’s not sure what’s connecting them now, after everything, but they keep ending up here,together. As he looks up at Dean, he realizes something with startling clarity, something he’s been pushing down during his rehab. Working so hard to get healthy had been his entire life during those long months away, but it wasn’t enough to fill that hole in life. He’d been lonely, and alone, sure, but the realization struck as he met Dean’s eyes--he’d missedhim.





	Red

**Author's Note:**

> Title is based on the [red string of fate](https://brightside.me/wonder-curiosities/the-red-string-of-fate-a-beautiful-japanese-legend-140105/) legend.
> 
> I gave Seth a dark match after his first Raw back from injury, since he only had promos that night, sadly. But it was one of my fave Seth promos ever, you can rewatch it [here](https://youtu.be/Cx-me9ZSp7k) if you'd like.

**Night after Extreme Rules: Monday May 23, 2016**

Seth didn’t expect to feel this _tired_. The night before, he’d been running on anticipation and adrenaline, everything flying by in a blur, just a few moments that made him feel _alive_ again, for the first time in months. Rehabbing had been long, and hard, and alone. Returning to Monday Night Raw was supposed to be triumphant, and even with the championship match Shane set for him, Seth can’t help but feel deflated after. Stephanie made it clear to him that he won’t just be sliding back into his old position, the crowd made it clear how fickle they are--why would he embrace them now, when it took his knee buckling and being gone for months for them to cheer for him? 

He tries not to let it get to him. Shane wouldn’t let him wrestle until Raw went off the air, assuring Seth it’s not because he doesn’t trust him but that it’s just for his own safety. To brush off the ring rust. Seth gets it, but he’s not happy about it. He wins the dark match, but his mind is on Money in the Bank, on Roman holding _his_ title, on how much everything has changed without him. 

He expected it, but that doesn’t mean he was ready for it. 

He’s in the locker room, alone, after his match. Nearly everyone else has cleared out of the arena by now--the show’s long over, and Seth didn’t exactly leave himself in a position to get any warm welcomes from his coworkers. It’s not that it bothers him, exactly. He’s been a loner for a while now, even when he was in Stephanie’s pocket. Nothing’s been the same since he destroyed the Shield, and he knew that was going to happen. He’d told the crowd as much earlier that night--Redesign Rebuild Reclaim is about no one else but _him_. He doesn’t need them, he doesn’t need Stephanie, he doesn’t need _anyone_. 

All this is rolling through his head as he takes his knee pad off and rubs his knee through his tights. It’s sore, but not the kind of sore he’d worry about. It’s just tired, and Seth knows he needs to rest it even if he doesn’t want to admit it. He doesn’t want to admit to anyone that maybe he’s not what he used to be, and he knows that unspoken fear is going to follow him around until he gets his _real_ first match back. Maybe even until he gets the title back.

The sound of a low whistle that goes up in pitch sharply at the end breaks him from his thoughts, and Seth looks up to see Dean Ambrose leaning in the doorway, watching him. He hasn’t spoken to Dean in months. Neither Dean nor Roman called or texted to check on him after his surgery, or during his recovery. He doesn’t blame them, he dug that grave himself. So seeing Dean now, looking for him, comes as something of a shock. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Dean says, pushing off from the door jamb and stepping in. He walks towards him and looks him over, taking him in, assessing him. The change in himself wasn’t something Seth noticed right away, but his hard work paid off. He’s returning stronger, his upper body bigger, only a slight lick of blonde still hanging on in his hair. It’s like he’s a new man, for whatever that’s worth. He can see the wheels turning in Dean’s head as he looks at him, like he’s wondering who exactly Seth is now. Seth isn’t even sure himself, though he’s sure as hell going to play off the confidence he showed in the ring that night for all it’s worth.

“You look good,” Dean finally says, and Seth just huffs. He doesn’t need this from Dean, whatever this is. He goes back to rubbing his knee, not realizing he had stopped with Dean’s presence. But Dean keeps walking towards him, jutting his chin out in the direction of Seth’s legs. “How’s the knee?”

“Like you care?” Seth asks, tone tight, defensive. 

Dean just shrugs and stuffs his hands in his pockets. “Just askin’,” he says, feigning disinterest, pretending this is a casual conversation. “Not like you got anyone else lookin’ out for you. I’m the closest thing to a friend you’ve got, pal.”

Seth rolls his eyes. He knows it’s meant to be a jab, but there’s some truth behind Dean’s words that do _something_ to Seth. Something about Dean has always been familiar, comfortable to Seth, even at their worst. 

“It’s a little sore,” Seth admits, looking up at him. “But it’s no big deal. Nothing compared to what it was.” It’s the truth--Dean seems to be the only one who can ever get the truth out of him, even if it comes with a fight. 

That’s not what this is, though. It’s not a fight, they’re not scratching and clawing at each other, not desperately trying to rip each other’s hearts out anymore. Seth’s not sure what’s connecting them now, after everything, but they keep ending up here, together. As he looks up at Dean, he realizes something with startling clarity, something he’s been pushing down during his rehab. Working so hard to get healthy had been his entire life during those long months away, but it wasn’t enough to fill that hole in life. He’d been lonely, and alone, sure, but the realization struck as he met Dean’s eyes--he’d missed _him_.

He’s pretty sure it must show on his face, because Dean shifts uncomfortably and changes the subject. He knows this isn’t something they’re going to talk about or admit to each other. This thread connecting them, whatever it is, always brings them back without them having to say any of it. 

Dean clears his throat, breaking the tension that built up between them in that silent moment. “You should ice it.”

Seth just nods, feeling almost itchy under his skin being around Dean again, and his instinct is to run as far from him as he can get before it swallows him up. “Yeah, I will. At the hotel.”

“Nope,” Dean says, reaching out a hand to help him up. “You’re gonna do it now.”

Seth sighs dramatically, because as much as he might need Dean in some way--more ways than he can explain or even understand himself--what he _doesn’t_ need is to be babied by him. “It’s fine.”

“ _Seth_.” He says his name firmly, and Seth swallows hard, nearly gulping. “Of all the things for you to be fucking stubborn about, this is _not it_. Now come on.” 

Dean grabs his hand, and Seth gives in, he lets Dean help him up. He limps a little out of the locker room and down the hallway, knowing Dean is right about this. It’s weird--back in the Shield together, Seth was the one who made sure Dean and Roman iced their injuries, made sure they took care of themselves. The reversal is throwing him off. 

When they get to the medical area, the staff has already left. It’s late, the show is long over, they’re probably alone in the entire stadium except for the maintenance crew. The medical supplies are still there though, and Dean goes right to the supply cabinet and starts rummaging for ice packs. 

“Sit down,” he says over his shoulder. “Take your pants off.”

Seth laughs, but it’s almost forced, because he still feels _weird_. “Geez, you’re not even gonna take me to dinner first?”

Dean huffs a laugh but doesn’t turn around as Seth starts to get out of his gear. “Wouldn’t be the first time, loverboy,” he drones in a low voice that Seth tries deeply to just ignore. 

When he finally does turn from the cabinet, Seth’s sitting on the table with his legs out wearing just his t-shirt and underwear, his tights in a pool on the floor. Dean smacks the ice packs to activate them and steps forward, and Seth can feel the weight of his gaze on him. He sees Dean’s throat bob as his eyes fall on Seth’s surgery scars, and Seth has to look away. 

“You did a number on yourself, huh?” Dean says as he places the ice packs onto Seth’s exposed knee. Seth flinches at the cold and just nods, letting out a breath. Dean falls quiet and goes to sit on the edge of the table next to Seth, turned to face him and swinging his legs a little bit. He never could just sit still. 

“Y’know...I was gonna text you, check in,” Dean admits quietly, and Seth looks up from the ice but Dean isn’t looking at him. He’s looking down, his hands gripping the edge of the table on either side of his thighs like he’s getting ready to jump off it. He doesn’t, though. He sticks around while Seth ices his knee. 

“Why didn’t you?” Seth asks. He has to know. Why would Dean even bring this up? Seth thinks back to the amount of times he scrolled through the contacts on his phone, his leg in a cumbersome brace, the dog his only company. He’d stop on Dean’s name every time, sometimes on Roman’s, too, but he never actually did anything about it.

Dean just shrugs a little. “Didn’t think you’d want to hear from me.”

“I always wanna hear from you.” It slips out before Seth even thinks about it, and Dean looks up to meet his eyes finally with a little smirk on his face. 

“Still so desperate for my attention, huh princess?”

“Shut up,” Seth replies, but there’s no heat behind it. “It just, it _sucked_. And I was alone.”

“Well, you deserved it.” The words take Seth aback, and the look on his face makes Dean almost flinch. Dean reaches up with one hand and pinches the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut and letting out a breath. “Not the knee. No one deserves that, even you. But the being alone...you brought that on yourself.”

“Yeah...I know.” 

Dean drops his hand down and meets Seth’s eyes again, waiting for something from him, something that Seth just can’t give. He’s not ready to apologize to Dean, not sure that he ever will be. Part of him knows that Dean deserves to hear those words, but it’s all still too fresh. It feels like a long time ago, before his injury and before rehab, when they were tearing each other apart just to get back at each other, just to _feel_. When the line between _I love you_ and _I hate you_ got blurred until it disappeared, until there was nothing but broken rage. 

Seth knows the truth, though. If he apologizes--not that Dean would accept it, not that Seth isn’t still too proud to do it, but _if_ Seth said those words--it would be over. He doesn’t know how he knows this, but he does, deep in his bones. Apologizing to Dean would close the door, maybe forever. And Seth doesn’t think he could handle that. He’d rather keep it inside, lodged in his chest like a bullet and carry it around with him. 

That way, he’s always got Dean where he wants him-- _close_. 

Dean gets up from the table and Seth watches him. He moves to the supply cabinet and closes it, leaving behind the mess he made when trying to find the ice packs. It looks like he’s stalling, but maybe that’s just wishful thinking. 

“Keep icing that,” he says at the door, turning halfway and hitching a thumb at Seth’s knee. 

“Dean…” 

He turns, then, and looks at Seth, one hand on the doorknob. 

“Why’d you do this?” Seth asks, gesturing down at the ice.

Dean shrugs one shoulder, going for casual again, but Seth knows better. “Dunno.” 

Seth nods, understanding; it’s the best he’s going to get out of him. He should thank him for his help, he knows that, but he doesn’t. He just lets Dean slip away, and he’s alone again with his ice and his knee and all of it. 

But still, somehow, he doesn’t feel quite so empty.


End file.
